


Lord Songbird

by my_life_is_a_trainwreck



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It of Sorts, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Being an Idiot, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, Jaskier | Dandelion Has a Past, M/M, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, Supportive Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:32:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23251750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_life_is_a_trainwreck/pseuds/my_life_is_a_trainwreck
Summary: Years after the hurtfully 'breakup' between The Witcher and his Bard, Geralt is painfully reminded of what he's lost when he and Ciri hear a joyful tune in a dirt mound of a town.Yennefer gives Geralt proposition which leads Geralt to get some insight into Jaskier's past life and why Jaskier much preferred the road to an estate."But the story is this she'll destroy with her sweet kiss, Her sweet kiss." He sucks in a short breath. "That song... is about you." She felt Geralt tense under her.Ciri knew Geralt had a string of past lovers behind him but he had only ever left two heartbreaks behind him. His bard's and his own.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 16
Kudos: 363





	1. Amber meets Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Two days into quartine and I'm already on A03... damn...

"I'm tired, Geralt..." complained Ciri as the two trotted trudged slowly down a back road track that was more of a streak of mud than a real path. Ciri never usually complained knowing it would get on Geralt's nerves but after spending a few nights on the road with nothing but a grumpy Witcher and a loyal horse one does get sick of it. 

"Hmm," hums Geralt. It may just be a generic hum but Ciri knows its a thoughtful hum. Even if he doesn't act it, he does take Ciri's complaining into account. Her rare complaining reminds of a certain bard. He quickly gets Jaskier out of his mind. "The next town is not far. Not long now." 

Even Roach seems thankful for her rest that was around the corner which tells Geralt he's dragged the two long enough. 

It had become dark quicker than Geralt had thought so the night had crept up on him yet he had made no move to set up camp much to Ciri's irritation. She was sure it was the dead of night due to her eyelids slipping close. 

She hated walking through the night. It was cold and scary. With the dark sky above her, darker forests with god knows what stalking them and an untiring Witcher by her side. 

His coin pouch felt heavy enough for them to have a room, a meal each and for Geralt to have a drink or two. If not he could probably find a contract or something. 

Sure enough, their rest came and appeared before them but Ciri wouldn't call it a town. There was a stable small enough for two horses, a small inn, a crop field to the back, a house or two and that was it. Geralt makes a throaty growl as he examines the cluster of buildings before him. 

"Don't be like that," huffed Ciri knowing what Geralt was thinking. _This village is too small. We'll move onto the next. The stable is to small for Roach._ He was just trying to make excuses to get back on the road. "I'm starving." Geralt looks to the girl beside him to see her wide smile and can't help but give a lopsided smile back. 

That was enough for Ciri. Together they hurry forward with Roach in tow and Geralt quickly settles Roach in for the night. She neighs and huffs in appreciation as Ciri and Geralt brush her hair and get her freshwater. 

The smell of rich hot food was enticing them in and Geralt hadn't even realized he was in need of a decent meal until the smell of cooked meat and beer wafted into his nose. 

They were both in the need for a good meal and a decent bed. Not that Ciri was going to complain to Geralt about sleeping on the ground as he had done so much for her already but after a few nights one does get aching in their back. Ciri suspects Geralt wouldn't understand that. 

As they open the door to the inn their hit with a wall of heat that warms them instantly. The roar of noise filled their ears which was a nice change from Geralt's ' _hmm'_ or Roach's trotting.

It was busier than you would've thought for such a shit-hole that the town was. It was bursting with people all chatting and laughing loudly as they ate through their hearty food, drank down mugs of ale while all listening to the jaunty song in the back. 

Geralt supposes that being the only village for miles on this beat track road, it was bound to have its fair share of drinkers and clients. It just so happened Geralt and Ciri were two of them.

"Room for two," said Geralt as he made his way to the innkeeper who looks up to smile at Geralt and even when she sees the White Wolf her smile does not fall. She looks to Ciri and her smile grows bigger. 

"Ha, 'course. You wanna meal?" she asked as she digs around her pocket. 

"Please." Geralt slides across a few coins which the innkeeper pockets and passes on the key.

"Take a seat and me husband will have yer' meal out." She points to the empty table and before Geralt can even blink, Ciri darts to the table and plants herself down. Clearly more than ready for a much-needed rest. "Make sure she eats well the night," the innkeeper nods towards Ciri. "She ain't got much meat on 'er bones and she'll be needing it if she's travelin' wit you." 

"Thanks for the advice," Geralt gives her a nod of thanks as he leaves for her table. He wrote off her nosiness for caring for she did have something motherly about her. 

Geralt takes a seat opposite Ciri who was itching and shifting in her seat. 

"Calm down," urges Geralt lightly. "You'll draw attention to us." Geralt lowers his voice. 

"Sorry... I'm just hungry," Ciri lets her ashen hair fall over her face and she settles more into her seat. 

"Don't need to apologize," Geralt bats away her apology with his hand. 

Ciri straightens herself up with a small smile and her smile only grew when a plate of hot meat and vegetables was placed before them. A side of bread for both of them and a mug of ale for Geralt and glass of water of Ciri which she gulped down in seconds.

"Slow down there," chuckles Geralt as he reaches for her. 

"Ha, sorry," she laughs. "Just thirsty." 

They start their meal and Ciri did not waste any time. She was straight in there and she crammed stuff into her mouth without chewing. Geralt almost stopped her, worried she'd choke but then again, she needed meat on her bones and she'd been desperate for a good meal for a while now and Geralt wasn't about to deprive her of the delicious meal in front of her. 

Geralt did admit he was glad to have a travel companion after his abrupt departure of his last. Although she didn't talk his ear off, have the sweet voice of an angle or beautiful deep blue eyes, Ciri was a good travel companion. She'd earned a spot on Roach's saddle. 

At first, he wasn't entirely sure what to do what a young girl. The road was no place for a growing girl let alone a princess. Or a princess with magic for that matter. Then again maybe the road was a good place for her. With people hunting her down for her powers, the road meant she was always traveling and always traveling with a witcher for that matter. 

Then again, a few years ago Geralt thought the same of the bard. The road was no place for a bard who didn't know how to fight and usually just got hurt but he did make for a hell of a good singer, writer, travel companion and a... a friend. 

_Fuck,_ thinks Geralt. He promised himself he wouldn't think of Jaskier after he fucked up their relationship but he did worry about him. _Where was he? Is he safe? Is he still singing?_ Even if Geralt pretended to hate Jaskier's company, he was worried deeply about him. 

"Are you okay, Geralt?" asked Ciri but her words were barely audible due to the mouthful of bread she had in her mouth. 

"Yes... just thinking," he grumbles.

That seemed to satisfy Ciri enough for her to get back to her meal and it made Geralt pull his attention to his meal too. As he takes a deep whiff in, his nose is hit hard by the smell of his meal and everything around him. True, having enhanced smelling was a bonus but sometimes it only gets in his way. 

First, he's hit by the rich smell of his food but it's overpowered by the smell of drunkenness, sweat, piss, the stables and oddly - lavender and roses. Floating over everything, even the strong piss smell, was lavender and roses. Like a summer day. 

It felt so... normal and familiar. But why would it? They were in the middle of nowhere in a shitty inn? Winter was coming so why would Geralt's heart swell at the smell of a summer day? There was no-

"Have you ever heard this song before," Geralt looks up from his meal that he hadn't even touched to look at Ciri who was swaying and humming to the tune that was playing loudly in the back. Even the drunk patrons were swaying, arm and arm, singing together even if their words were slurred but they were loud and from the heart. 

_"A storm breaking on the horizon_  
_Of longing and heartache and lust_  
_She's always bad news_  
_It's always lose, lose_  
_So tell me love, tell me love_  
_How is that just?"_

_shit._

_"But the story is this_  
_She'll destroy with her sweet kiss_  
_Her sweet kiss_  
_But the story is this_  
_She'll destroy with her sweet kiss"_

_SHIT. SHIT. SHIT. SHIT_

They say Witchers don't feel anything. That they're emotionless but at that moment Geralt was overcome was so much panic that it froze him. Eventually, Geralt forced himself to spin around and as he does amber eyes meet blue. 

The smell of rich lavender is replaced by a sickening smell of fear. The tune was broken by a lute string snapping in the bard's fingers and his voice breaks suddenly until his sweet singing is replaced with nothing.

"What happened?" Asked Ciri who was trying to look over Geralt's shoulder. "I liked that song." 

_So did I,_ thinks Geralt and he wants to say it but he can't as he's paralyzed with... well he doesn't know because he's never felt anything and not anything so strong. 

Despite all that Geralt found himself standing and taking Ciri by the wrist. In all honestly, Geralt wasn't entirely in control of his movement it was more like he was overcome by the feeling that he couldn't be there, that he just had to get out. He could almost hear Ciri protesting and trying to pull her wrist from his grip but Geralt only let's go when he shuts the room door behind them.

"Geralt!" hisses Ciri as she rubs the pain in her wrist. "What has gotten into you? You didn't even touch your ale!" 

Geralt only gave a noncommittal grunt as he fingers the lace of his armor. Ciri takes that as her cue to shake off her cloak and kick off her boots as Geralt let his leather armor fall off him. 

"They never worried me about Witcher mood swings," she snipes at him with a laugh as she finds her spot on the single bed tucked into the corner. 

"Hmm," he grunts with a flare of his nostrils. 

Ciri takes it as a sign not to ask or say anything more and instead untucks the bedsheets, plumps her straw pillow and curls up on the mattress. Listening to Geralt stomp around their room and making it impossible to fall asleep. 

"Will you sleep?" Ciri twists herself around in her bed to see Geralt brooding by his bed with his hands clasped as his chin. Geralt was not a man of words but Ciri could always tell when he had so much to say but no words to express himself. 

Despite exhaustion heavy on her body, she still pulled herself from the warmth of her sheets to slide next to Geralt on his bed. 

He lets out a soft non-threatening grunt of appreciation as he feels Ciri's arms snake between his and her head resting on his broad shoulder. 

"I know you're not much of a talker but..." Geralt sneaks a look down at Ciri who was looking up at him with doe-like eyes. "You seem distracted which is very unlike you." 

"I'm not... distracted," scoffs Geralt. 

_Him? distracted? Distracted by Jaskier? Never! Ok well maybe..._

"That bard downstairs," Geralt's stomach knots. "You knew him, didn't you." 

"Once," Geralt said, vague as usual. 

"And...?" Ciri tries her luck by trying to get something out of Geralt. 

"And, nothing. I know a lot of people, Ciri. One bard is just a bard." 

Geralt brushed Ciri and the idea of Jaskier off but Ciri can tell something was going on his mind. Thoughts whirling around in that thick skull of his. 

" _Of longing and heartache and lust,"_ Ciri repeats a line of the song but without Jaskier's smooth voice it had no meaning. " _She's always bad news_  
_It's always lose, lose..."_ Geralt closes his eyes and listens to her words but they were Jaskier's words. " _But the story is this sh_ _e'll destroy with her sweet kiss_  
_Her sweet kiss."_ He sucks in a short breath. "That song... is about you." She felt Geralt tense under her. 

Ciri knew Geralt had a string of past lovers behind him but he had only ever left two heartbreaks behind him. His bard's and his own. 

Ciri wasn't sure when she had fallen asleep but she awoke snuggled up in Geralt's bed. Clearly, once she had fallen asleep on his shoulder, he had rolled her over with a gentle touch so her head was resting on the pillow. She snuggled herself in his bedsheet not that he minded. 

He lay next to her but the sleep he did get was little and light and he awoke much earlier than she did only to find a friend (of sorts) waiting by Roach. 

Meaning Ciri awoke alone in their room wondering where her Witcher had stumbled off to now. Once she looked out the window she found him chatting with Raven haired woman dressed the finest dresses she'd ever seen. 

Despite her still being dazed and heavy form her slumber, she rolled out of bed and followed after Geralt. 

"Yen, you not that's not my thing." Geralt was leaning up against the pole of the stable with his heavy palm soft on Roach's neck who was munching through her morning hay. 

Next to him stood a gorgeous woman with raven hair rolling down the front of her silk dress. She looked rather out of place in the crap hole that was the town they found shelter in and Ciri was sure her heels were not made for standing in horse manure. 

"Sure but it is a princess thing," the woman swiveled her head to look down at Ciri who had wondered out the inn. She looked down at her with a warm smile that made Ciri trust her but still not enough so Ciri found her place next to Geralt.

"Yennefer of Vengerberg," she extends her hand which seems rather formal but before Ciri takes it, she takes a quick glance to Geralt as if saying; _can we trust her._ To which Geralt responded with a subtle nod of the head. 

Ciri takes her hand. 

"Ciri," is all she says as she weakly shakes her hand. 

Yennefer knits her eyebrows together at her name. A sure sign Yennefer knew everything already about Ciri, Geralt's child of surprise. Yen was a smart woman, cunning even and Ciri hoped she was trustworthy.

"Please could you tell your dear Witcher how much fun feasts and balls are?" Yennefer pulls away from her lame handshake and looks back to Geralt who rolls his eyes as she looks at him with an eyebrow cocked. 

"I always loved feasts," sighs Ciri as she claps her hands and thinks back to her past days. "The food, the people and the dancing! Sadly that is all the past." It was almost sad to see that Ciri had given up her luxuries and had adapted to enjoy life on the road and in shitty inns. 

Yennefer was about to change all that. 

"Well, what if I told you that I was invited to Lord Augustus's feast tonight?" she coos to Ciri but Geralt saw the shift of Yen's gaze so she was now smirking at Geralt knowing she was about to take Geralt and Ciri to a feast. 

"Lord Augustus' feast? Oh my..." Ciri seemed at a loss for words. 

"See Geralt," sighs Yen as she gestures to Ciri with a soft wave of her hand. "The poor girl is overcome with happiness! She cannot speak!" 

Before Geralt can protest, Ciri is tugging at his arm and jumping for joy with the sparkle of joy in her eyes with her mouth stretched into an impossibly wide smile. "Please, please, _pleaaaaase,_ Geralt!" she begs. "I haven't been to a feast in _years_ but they are ever so much fun! I can teach you how to dance and-and we can eat together and-and it'll be so much fun. You'll have something other to do than ride roach!" 

"Hm..." he hums thoughtful and Ciri can tell he's thinking about it but she doesn't stop pulling at his sleeve. Even Yen doesn't stop smirking at him. 

"We'd have nothing to wear, Ciri," sighed Geralt trying to squirm his way out of it. 

"No need to worry about that small problem," Yennefer brushes him off. "Meet me here in a few hours and you two will be head to toe in the finest silks I can get my hands on." 

"You would that do for us? Really?" Ciri turned her innocent eyes to Yennefer and suddenly Yennefer realizes why Geralt was more than happy to have a little girl follow him on his travels. She was the sweetest creature Yen had laid eyes on.

"Of course! Geralt is an old... _friend_ of mine after all." Her smirk twists into a coy smile as she makes the point to highlight their more than friendly interactions in their past. Geralt hopes her words go over Ciri's head. 

True to her word, Yennefer reappears a few hours later with silks over her arms. 

Geralt and Ciri had spent the last hours sitting in the inn just waiting for Yen. Or rather, Geralt waited and hoped for the return of the bard but he never showed. Even if he didn't want to admit it, Geralt was crushed at the absence of his bard but Ciri never mentioned it. 

Yennefer really went above and beyond with their outfits. Ciri, in a blue silk dress with white lace trim, felt like a real princess once again and it was only appropriate that Geralt looked dashing in his red silks. 

It seemed weird to see him in something other than black leathers and even he looked uncomfortable to be restricted in formal attire but he kept his complaints to himself knowing how much this meant to Ciri. He had even gone to the lengths to tie back his silver mane. 

"Red suits you, Geralt," coys Yennefer as the three swan out the inn feeling very fresh in their new gear. Ciri could barely contain her excitement. 

"I don't think they make leathers in red, Yen," he said trying to amuse her. 

Up ahead sat a horse-drawn carriage that Ciri nearly fainted at the sight off. For once she wouldn't ride a horse but rather pulled by one. 

"I thought you liked riding Roach," huffs Geralt as they pile into the carriage. 

"I love Roach," says Ciri as she sits comfortably down in the cushioned seats. "Riding her does get... sore after a while."

"Speak for yourself," huffs Geralt as he tried to find a comfortable spot but he never could. He was too big for the carriage and was too bulky to be dressed in formal silks for him to be comfortable. He should be upfront saddled on one of the horses not being pulled by one.

An hour or so had passed and the excitement was too much for Ciri as she fell back into slumber. Now it was just Yennefer and Geralt trying to make idle chit chat but Geralt was never one for small talk. 

"Remind why I am doing this again?" he sighs and lets his head roll back only for the top of his head to scuff the roof. 

"I needed a date," said Yennefer casually. 

"So what better than a Witcher?" Geralt narrows his eyes into Yennefer trying to assess the real reason why Geralt was accompanying her. There was always a double meaning in Yennefer's actions and this was no different. 

"It'll impress," she said simply was a shrug of her shoulders. 

"Or intimidate," he growls. 

They lock eyes for a heated moment daring each other to move or say anything. Geralt needed to know what he was about to be dragged into because he was dragging Ciri into this. She was so excited about this feast and Geralt didn't want it to turn sour. 

"Fine..." she caves. "Someone may owe me a considerable sum of money." She waves her hand into the air and tries to play if off as to try to make sure Geralt didn't throw one of his bitch fits. 

"Of course..."

"It'll only take a moment and you can take Ciri to eat, drink, sing or whatever is that appeals to your Witcher heart." She tries to joke around with him by wiggle her fingers close to his chest only for Geralt to slap her hand away which was she did not expect. 

It seems as though bringing Ciri into his life has made him more responsible in way. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Geralt was Ciri's father in a way and Yennefer knew Geralt was trying his best not to fuck this relationship up much as he did his in his last

"I don't care just make sure no harm comes to Ciri," he snaps at her. 

She smiles once more. "You really do care for that girl don't you," Geralt sucks in a harsh breath meaning Yennefer struck a nerve with him. "Who said Witcher's don't have feelings, eh?" 


	2. Blue meets Amber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night to remember...

Oh, how he tried.

He tried so hard to stay out of Geralt's way and the further away Jaskier went, the better. It was clear as day that Jaskier no longer had a place next to Geralt on the road and Geralt himself made that abundantly clear. Sure Jaskier was used to Geralt's broody and his sudden bursts of anger but this time... this time it was different somehow.

That day on the mountain stuck by Jaskier, even four years later and even now Geralt's words slice through him like bullets. Did he really mean what he said that day?

No matter. Jaskier was happy enough on the road by himself. Traveling from town to town, singing of his missing Witcher. The clinking of coins a painful reminder that Jaskier only got coin whenever he sang of Geralt. He made enough money to get by. Enough money to stay the night in an inn, get some food in his belly and then sent off only to start the process again.

Happy...

He'd spent a few months, maybe a year at the most continuing on his mindless path before he ran into an old face.

Jaskier had just finished his set in the inn that he had stumbled upon through his travels. It was one of the biggest towns he had found himself in meaning more customers and more customers meant more coin. Jaskier treated himself that night with a hot bath and soaps but before he could indulge himself in the bath that he'd been dreaming of, he was stopped.

"By the gods..." came a surprised gasp from behind making Jakseir halt in his tracks. "Julain?"

 _Julian._ He hadn't heard that name in... years and there was a good reason for it. "Julain" was dead and Jaskier had flourished from it. 

Nonetheless, Jaskier turned his head and as he did, his stomach churned at the painful sight of Finneus sitting with half a mug of ale in his hand. Although Jaskier hadn't seen his brother for two decades, Jaskier could recognize his brother just from a glance.

Although he had aged with his face breaking out in wrinkles and his dark hair graying, he still looked dashingly handsome and so much like dear old dad.

Jaskier hugs his lute to his chest like it would shield him from his brother or protect him from whatever cruel remark he had spit at Jaskier, instead Jaskier found himself swallowed up in his brother's arms.

"W-we all thought you were _dead_." There was pain in Finn's voice as he squeezed Jaskier tightly but Jaskier was in too much in a state of shock to say anything and just let the hug happen until Finn broke out from the hug to study his brother. "We were all worried sick!" 

Jaskier doesn't believe that for a second. In fact, he would put money on the fact that his parents, brothers, sisters and whoever else were living on the estate was happy to see Jaskier go.

"What are you doing here?" Jaskier opens his mouth to answer but he doesn't quite know what he would've said. Luckily Finn spoke before him anyway. "Are you still playing with the sill old lute?" hisses Finn as he drags his fingers over the strings. 

Jaskier grimaces as the lute let out a shriek of ugly notes when Finn's fingers drag harshly over the strings. "I... um... had to make money somehow." Jaskier manages out a fake laugh as he swings the lute out of his older brother's reach. 

"You could've come home." 

_You didn't want me!_ Is what Jaskier wants to say but he keeps his venom to himself. "I wouldn't know how... wouldn't it be strange if I came home?" squeaks Jaskier. 

"Nonsense!" Finn gives a brotherly pat on Jaskier's shoulder making Jaskier flinch for no reason. "It is your home too, Julain. Your childhood is there." 

_Childhood!_ Scoffs Jaskier to himself. Jaskier wouldn't say years of shouting, neglect, and abuse was a childhood. 

"Come home with me?" There seemed to be something real in Finn's voice as he gave a caring squeeze of Jaskier's shoulder. Jaskier's heart pinched. 

Maybe life would be different? Maybe he would come home and he would be layered in kisses, hugs, and love. Maybe they would apologize and welcome him home with open arms and wide smiles. Maybe they had changed their ways...

Maybe, just maybe... 

As it turned out, Jaskier was just fooling himself. 

Not much had changed at the estate. Only that his parents were slowing, aged and at the end of their days. His siblings had aged too but they were no less beautiful and they had no fewer admirers fawning over them. 

They gave Jaskier a... warmish welcome. They hugged him weakly with a strained smile. Even his father. They ever had a nice enough meal where no one shouted and no one stormed out. 

Finn had kept the fact he knew about Jaskier's 'foolish hobby' to himself and that was for the best. Jaskier was to become Lord Julain. 

The only reason Jaskier was wanted home was that his parents were slowing and in need of someone noble to take over the land when they pass. Not because they wanted their son home. 

His siblings had already married into richer families, gained lands and had a family so they could care less about who got the family estate which is why it fell to Jaskeir whether he wanted it or not. 

It didn't take long for Jaskier to feel like he didn't belong. Even if he carried the family name and the estate was to be his but it just didn't fit right. It was like trying to fit a jigsaw piece in with an entirely different puzzle. 

He didn't belong in a manor. He belonged on the road, in an inn with a lute in hand and a grumpy Witcher watching from a distance but that was in the past. Jaskier had lost that life and the Witcher but... maybe he could regain that part he lost. 

He still had his lute and his songs and his voice! 

It was that night when Jaskier decided he wouldn't be caged by his family and every night for the next month or so he snuck out. In the dead of night like a shadow he would sneak from his chamber, find his steed and head off. The night wind in his hair, lute strapped to his back, songs humming in his head and for the first time in a long time, a real smile on his face.

He did this for a month and that month gained him that piece he was missing and a sizeable amount of coin. Every night he would manage to sneak back home with his coin clinking in his pocket while everyone was deep in sleep and it made Jaskier giddy. 

Maybe it was the feeling of breaking away from his family or just being able to sing again but either way, Jaskier finally had freedom. Sure it was only an hour in the dead of night but that was his hour. His hour to be Jaskier, not Lord Julian or Geralt's bard.

That was until Jaskier happened to find himself in a small shit hole town with an even shittier inn. Nonetheless, the welcoming innkeeper was more than happy, ecstatic even to have Jaskier play and sure even, he had the entire inn singing in seconds. 

People were up singing, dancing and cheering along to Toss A Coin to You Witcher. 

He barely even noticed when a certain white-haired Witcher stomped in. What he did notice however was a small ashen haired girl swaying humming along with Jaskier as he strummed Her Sweet Kiss. 

That was when amber eyes meet blue. 

Jaskier's hand tenses and as it does a string breaks between his fingers. His throat tightens and no words can get out and suddenly the tavern was plunged into silence. 

That was last Jaskier snuck out not because of Geralt but because of the morning that followed. 

Jaskier wasn't careful when he got home. In fact, he was rather noisy as he stomped in and threw himself down on the bed trying to decide if he would cry or not. Seeing Geralt again was a shock, to say the least for Jaskier never thought he would see his ugly mug again but... part of Jaskier wanted to see him again. He wanted to know if Geralt really meant what he said and if so, was he sorry?

Some stupid part of Jaskier wanted to see him again! Ha! How pathetic... even after everything Geralt had said Jaskier was still desperate to be forgiven. Maybe that was why Jaskier agreed to come home because he didn't want to be thought of as a problem as a _disgrace._

He wasn't sure when he had fallen asleep but the next thing Jaskier remembers was being abruptly torn from his slumber at the sound Beatrice's ugly laugh that was more like a cackle. It sounded so loud and close as did Jackson and Andrea's laugh. Like they were outside his room or even inside his room. 

With that worrying thought, Jaskier forces his eyes open to see Jackson's square head looking down at him with a wicked smile. Jaskier's lungs refused to take in any more breath when he saw Beatrice was leaned over and rummaging through his things and throwing them carelessly out.

It was like someone had turned his room upside-down. Not that Jaskier had brought much back with him but what he did have was his songs. Notebooks with scribblings of what he and Geralt did on their travels. Songs and poems that spun the tales beautifully. 

Now the notes of stories were lying in shreds on the floor. Beatrice was deep in Jaskier's trunk as she threw more papers and notes out and Jackson was there to catch them where he joyfully destroyed them. 

The only notebook that wasn't destroyed was the one that was held in Andera's hand as she read it out to Jackson and Beatrice with a coy smile. 

"The fairer sex, they often call it. But her love's as unfair as a crook. It steals all my reason. Commits every treason. Of logic, with naught but a look..." she spoke with a harsh tone like she was mocking Jaskier with his own words. 

"...stop..." rasped Jaskier with his bravery leaving him. He felt like such an idiot for thinking he could stand up for himself. Not when the life he built for himself was lying in shreds by his feet. 

"A storm breaking on the horizon. Of longing and heartache and lust. She's always bad news. It's always lose, lose. So tell me, love, tell me, love. How is that just?" She spits his own song at Jaskier and for once in his life, Jaskier felt hurt to hear his own song. 

"Andera, I said stop!" snapped Jaskier with his voice somehow unshaken in his mouth. He mustered any bravery he had to speak up against his sister and even enough bravery to roll out of bed to reach for her. Pulling him back was the cold hard grip of Jackson as he clamped his hand painfully down on Jaskier's shoulder. He lets out a pathetic whimper as pain lances through his shoulder. 

Beatrice laughs her ugly laugh at his sad cry. 

"But the story is this. She'll destroy with her sweet kiss. Her sweet kiss," Andrea swung herself dramatically up from the bed and graced towards Jaskier with a spin as she used his song against him. "But the story is this. She'll destroy with her sweet kiss." Now she was leveled down in front Jaskier as the words hissed out her teeth. 

"Lovely words, _bard,_ " spat Andrea. 

Jaskier lets out another cry as Jackosn twists his arm slightly and the word 'bard' snakes into Jaskier's ears. 

He tried hard to keep his past profession in his past. To his family, the only noble profession was a Lord and anything less was a disgrace. Hence the reason Jaskier spent years following Geralt around strumming his lute, finally feeling free. He tried to hard to keep the secret singing hidden but he was too careless. Last night ruined it and exposed him.

It was happening all over again.

Before Jaskier was found his true freedom, his father found the lute Jaskier had tried desperately to hide but once his father found it. Jaskier felt the full extent of his father's wrath that day and it was greater than any creature Geralt and Jaskier faced on the road. 

_You are such a disappointment, you know._ He said as he raised his hand over his head. _You were meant for great things but I see you will never be good enough. You bring disgrace to our family name!_ His father brought his hands down and they collided with Jaskier's body. 

It took a few months of more pain and more ridicule for Jaskier to finally find the bravery to leave. He strapped his lute to his back, gathered his notes and fled without even a goodbye or a look back. Greatest discussion Jaskier ever made. 

And now he was back. 

"What else are you hiding in here?" coos Beatrice as she breaks away from her siblings to go searching deeper in his rooms. 

"There's nothing else! I swear!" pleads Jaskier as he tries to wrestle out from his brother who was still restraining and his grip was growing tighter and tighter. 

No matter how much he pleaded or begged, Jackson never let up his grip and Beatrice never stopped searching. Looking behind the drawers, up on the highest of shelves and under the bed until-

Her eye lit up as she extends her hand under his bed. 

_No. No. No. No._

Last night Jaskier was careless enough to just discard his lute under his bed without trying to conceal. It was lying discarded under his bed and easy for Beatrice to grab. 

Jaskier collapsed into Jackson with exhaustion and fear as Beatrice delved deeper under the bed. Once she reappeared from under the bed, she also pulled out the one thing Jaskier had tried to the hardest to hide. 

"Oh wow..." she chuckled as she carelessly threw the lute from hand to hand, making Jaskier squirm with worry knowing how delicate the lute was but that only made Beatrice realize how much the lute mattered to Jaskier. "Where were you last night?" 

"I..." Jaskier looks from his sister to the lute and back to his sister, trying to decide what as worth me. His lute or his arm that was being twisted more and more and threatening to snap. "I went for a walk?" he lies, hoping it sounded convincing.

"In the dead of night?" barks Jackson as he pulled at Jaskier's arm once more. 

"I couldn't sleep!" he yelped in pain as pain shoot through his arm and rippled through his shoulder. 

"Liar," hisses Andrea, her words dripping with venom. "You always were the weakest of us." Andrea looks he younger up and down and enjoys the sight of his lip quivering and the tears welling in his eyes. If only she could make those tears fall...

It was like the thought came to Beatrice and Andrea at the same time. They turn to each other with a devilish glint in their eyes which makes knots tighten painfully in his stomach.

And Jaskier can't stop the struggled sob as Beatrice raises the lute high above her and swings it down. 

Brushing down his hair, Jaskier stares at himself hard in the mirror trying to will the tear stains away. He needed to look presentable and he wasn't about to give Jackson, Andrea and Beatrice them the satisfaction of knowing how much they hurt him. 

He rolls his shoulder only for pain to shoot through his body. He's sure Jackson bruised his back or at least did some internal damage. Nonetheless, Jaskier straightened himself, dusted down his silks before turning for the door. 

He ignores the broken shatters and snapped strings of his lute as he leaves. 

"There you are," groans his father. Jaskier physically shudders at the sight of his father. His father was an ugly man inside and out. His skin was tight on his face making him look more like skeleton than anything. It was wonder why anyone would want to marry him let alone have children with him. "You're late." 

"Sorry..." mumbled Jaskier as the two leave for the main hall. 

"Speak up when you talk to me, boy!" hisses his father. "My feast started and I will not have you ruin it."

"Yes, father," said Jaskier with his chin raised slightly trying to please his father, not that he cared. As soon as Jaskier and his father find their way into the main hall, Jaskier's chin falls. 

With their mother stood Finn, Andrea, Beatrice, Jackson, Markus, and Ann. They all scowl hard at him as he enters but suddenly his gaze diverts to the white-haired man that looked very out of place amongst the finely dressed nobles. 

At that moment, blue eyes meet amber.


	3. Amber and Blue

The manor was insufferably warm. From the groups of rich nobles gracing around the hall and from the steaming heaps of rich food that was being brought out in silver platters. 

What made it worse was the constricting silks Geralt was forced to wear and he wanted nothing more than to rid himself of the dumb silks and get back into his trusty leathers. Although... Ciri was practically glowing as soon as she pulled on the dress and she nearly exploded when she entered into the hall so Geralt kept his complaints to himself. 

"The man who owes you money," grunts Geralt in a low growl to Yen who was posied by a wall, goblet of wine in hand. "Who is he?" Geralt chances a glance to Ciri who was watching the nobles dance but was still close enough to Geralt so that Geralt wasn't itching with worry. 

"Why so you can beat the money out of him," scoffs Yen as she pauses to sip from the goblet. "You needn't worry about him yet. I haven't seen him yet and I'll deal with him later when he's drunk. I wouldn't want to ruin your night." Yen pushed off from the wall so she's mere inches from Geralt. 

He can smell the wine from her lips which she was licking but he simply rolls his eyes and grunts before turning his back on her. Much to her annoyance.

"Isn't it just wonderful," giggles Ciri as she sways in time with the music. Geralt gives a small hmm of agreeance but really he watches the nobles seeing only peacocks flashing their feathers. 

Woman have their grandest jewelry in an attempt to show it off. Men have shark-like grins as they talk of their riches, their land and themselves. Right now everyone is sober but Geralt wishes everyone would hurry up and get drunk. That's when the fun begins. 

His eyes scan across the sea of glittering jewels and vibrant dresses before his eyes lock onto something brighter than jewels, something worth more than anything that hung off the women's necks... a pair of painfully familiar blue eyes. 

And they were looking back at him.

"Geralt, are you okay?" Geralt is only slightly aware of the slight tug on his arm and he had only just realized that he had been stood silent and motionless. 

"Hmm, yes..." Geralt takes a glance down at the small girl who was stood worried next to him but he quickly pulls his gaze back up in search of the blue eyes but they were gone as soon as he looked away. 

Geralt suddenly became very aware of the music around him. The man's voice was nice but not smooth like silk or sweet like honey. Like Jaskier's voice. There was already a bard strumming and singing so why was Jaskier here? 

There was already a bard? Unless...

Jaskier was a guest. 

"See I knew you would enjoy yourself," smiles Yen as she joined Geralt and Ciri. 

"I just wanted to thank you-" starts Ciri only for her to abruptly interrupted by Geralt.

"Lord Augustus," he begins as he turns his hard stare onto Yen. "What is his full name?" 

Yen stares hard back at him with her eyebrows knitted. "Why would that interest you?" she asked sounding exasperated. 

"Tell me." 

"Grumpy are we," sighs Yen as she swirls the wine in her goblet but Geralt's snarl makes her talk. "It is a long name to say the least, complicated too. Something along the lines of... Augustus Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove but I don't see-" 

"Fuck!" exclaims Geralt with a snarl on his lips. 

Not a bard. Not a guest but rather an heir. 

"Language," snaps Ciri in a slightly joking tone but she can see something is troubling Geralt. She goes to ask him as she places a light hand on his shoulder only for her to interrupted again by Lord Augustus' raspy voice breaking over the crowd who had all paused to watch him grace into the center of the floor.

Dressed head to toe in his finest attire, August swans with as much grace as his old body would allow him with his skeleton of a wife hanging from his arm. She too was dressed in her finest dress only it hung from her fragile body like it was two sizes too big on her. 

"Esteemed guests," he begins as his hand that was covered in thick rings reached out for the crowd. He goes on to talk and talk, not that Geralt was listening but his attention falls onto the movement from behind Lord Augustus. Behind him, more well-dressed nobles swan behind him. Grinning at the guest apart from one...

His head was turned down at the floor with his face devoid of all emotion. He held himself like he was fragile, cold and like he was in pain. 

"My children and I wish you a good night!" With one last show of love, Augustus plasters on a smile and throws an arm to the nobles behind him. 

His children... 

"Who the hell is that," hisses Yen in a hushed voice behind Geralt. She nods towards the nobles and it was no surprise it was directed at the small looking son. "I knew August had children but he never mentioned him." 

"I think there's a reason for that," huffs Geralt as he soon realizes who it was. "That's Jaskier." Geralt's heart shatters at the sight of his bard who was painfully silent. There was no smile on his face or glitter in his eyes. Usually, Jaskier loved public attention but now that the crowd was clapping for him, each clap seemed ot be painful for him.

"You mean your rude mouthed bard," chuckles Yen and her joy only boils Geralt's anger. "Why would he be here?"

"Julain Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove..." sighs Geralt with a hang of his head as he feels shame wash over him. 

"Oh, shit..." Yen lets out a sigh of realization but there was a sense of sorrow. For Yen has heard passing rumors of Augustus' cold and unloving nature and for Jaskier's sake, she hopes it was only a passing rumor. "Well, it just so happens..." there was a glint of wickedness in her smile as they watch Augustus and his children melt into the crowd. "We need to make a quick visit to his dear brother Finneus." 

"Get that look off your face," snides Finneus as they melt into the crowd towards the table of food. "This is a banquet! Filled with food, drink, fine woman and happiness." Finneus tries to appeal to Julain who was stumbling behind him with no look of joy on his pale face. "Father was right about you ruining it..." sighs Finneus with a side glance to his brother and malice in his voice. 

"I'm sorry," Jaskier wasn't entirely sure why he was apologizing but he felt obligated too. "I'm just not... feeling great," Jaskier mumbles as he rubs the pain in his shoulder that seemed to grow as the night went on. 

"You're not still worked up about that stupid instrument of yours?!" snarls Finn as he pauses midstep to turn around and hiss at his brother who flinched away at his brother's sudden turn.

"No, I just-" 

"It's for the best, Julain," sighs Finneus as he rakes through his dark hair. "You are a _Lord,_ you should be smart enough to know what qualifies to be a Lord and right now, you do not qualify." Finn's words hiss through his grated teeth. "That means no idiotic lute, no _mutants_ and don't even think about singing! We all know what's best for you, Julain and being here is what is best..." 

Although his words were cruel and cold, he places a brotherly hand on his bad shoulder but quickly his grip gets tighter until it is no longer a 'brotherly' grip but more a threatening one that enforces his words. 

Jaskier swallows down his cry of pain that bubbled up inside him when Finneus' hand clawed into his shoulder that was still raw with pain. 

"Good..." said Finnues when he saw the pain in his younger brother's eyes and luckily let his hand fall from his brother's shoulder and Jaskier let out the breath he didn't know he was holding. "Just... don't be stupid. Be... Lord Julain. That's what father wants." 

The words were heavy on Jaskier. Reminding him that no matter how hard he tried, he would never be 'Lord Julain.' He was and will always be Jaskier, a punching bag to his siblings, a disgrace to his father. 

And a burden to Geralt. _A liability._

Jaskier shakes his head as the thought of Geralt creeps back up on him again. So what if he was here? Jaskier's family wants him to be Lord Julain and Lord Julain has no affiliation with Geralt.

"... of course," the worlds fall out of Jaskier's without him even realizing but neither did Finneus as he was concerned with something else. He was scowling over Jaskier's shoulder with his lips parted slightly as his mind whirled with thoughts. "Finneus?" asked Jaskier in a small voice.

"Shit," sighs Finn with his top lip flaring and his teeth grinding. "I need to go." Finn tried to compose himself by smoothing down his hair and sucking in a hard breath but Jaskier could practically hear his brother's heart hammering with fear. 

Jaskier dares to look over his shoulder and his eyes fall to the raven-haired sorceress dressed in fine silks who was talking rather animatedly with a small blonde hair girl and burly white hair Witcher. 

Yennefer, Ciri and (of fucking course) Geralt. 

Behind him, Jaskier hears the hurried footsteps of his brother who had fled behind him. 

Now, Finnues was a man who always spent the money he didn't have and Jaskier, although he'd been away for a lifetime didn't have any doubt why he was running. He clearly owed money to someone. 

But who?

Geralt wasn't a man of business and if Finneus owed Geralt money, Finneus wouldn't be alive. Not that Finneus would ever give Geralt a contract but if he were and withheld Geralt's money, Geralt would've slain Finnues were he stood and looted his well-earned money from his corpse. 

Yennefer, on the other hand, was a woman of business. She had a way with words, money and more importantly men. If Finneus was owed any money, it was Yennefer and if so, he was right to run. Many fear the strength of a Witcher but Jaskier fears the wrath of Yennefer. 

"Plan of action?" asked Ciri as she looked up between the witcher and the mage. 

"You can run after your bard but I'm getting my money," huffs Yennefer as she downs the rest of her wine. 

"If you can find him that is," grunts Geralt and Yen's vibrant purple eyes scowl as she looks for Finn but the twitch of irritation in her face was a sign she'd lost him. 

"That bastard probably saw us and took a runner, the coward," she curses as her hand curls around the goblet. 

Geralt too was scanning the room for he was indeed going after his bard that is if Jaskier would even want to talk to him again. The night at the inn after the two saw each other, Jaskier did a runner which was fair, to say the least. 

And now Jaskier seems to have done a runner again which wasn't surprising. How was Jaskier supposed to feel after seeing Geralt in his family home?

"I'm sure if we find Jaskier, he can point us in the direction of Finn," pipes up Ciri and both Yen and Geralt turn to look down at her. Only Yen had a wide and proud smile on her face while Geralt has his mouth pressed in a firm line of regret. 

Part of him wanted never to see Jaskier, not because he believed Jaskier was to blame for all of their misadventures but because Geralt was too guilt-ridden. How could Geralt face his 'closest-friend' who he blamed, ridiculed and shunned from his life? Geralt was never a man of words but he had to so much he wanted to say but would never know how to say it. 

"Amazing idea! Maybe some of your brilliant intelligence will rub off on Geralt," before Geralt can protest, Yennefer sent off with Ciri bouncing along behind her so Geralt felt obligated to. 

"I have to ask," said Ciri as she fell back from Yen's side to walk by Geralt. "Did you not know _anything_ of Jaskier's past? His family?" Ciri cocks one of her fair eyebrows as she looks up Geralt who's face twists with... something. Shame, maybe? Ciri couldn't quite place it but it was a mix of sorrow, shame, and anger. 

"It was never something we spoke of," shrugs Geralt but it was true, Geralt was ashamed of himself for never knowing or maybe Jaskier had told him but Geralt had just brushed it off like Geralt usually did. 

"You never asked?" 

"I thought it wasn't my place. I knew he was noble but I never asked more. I wonder why though, he must've had a good life with money and whatever he could've asked for." That made Geralt wonder. If Jaskier had all this money and riches at his fingertips then why was he a simple bard and more importantly, why did he tag along with Geralt and sleep in shit hole inns when he could've been sleeping in a manor!?

"Human life is never that simple, Geralt," sighed Ciri with a shake of her head. "Jaskier isn't like other nobles. He's a simple man who is content being on the road with his lute and his Witcher. It makes you think, maybe there was a reason he left it all behind for you." 

"Hmm," hummed Geralt. "You're surprisingly wise for someone so young." 

"Someone needs to keep you in check," Ciri gives him a soft elbow in his side which Geralt responds to with an amused half-hearted smile as her words were heavy on his entire body. 

Jaskier never once talked about his riches, wealth, his home, his family. He never showboated and instead was happy strumming the strings of his lute and singing merrily and he did it all with a smile. Geralt could never imagine any other noble doing this. They were friends for what? Almost two decades? And this train of thought never once came to Geralt? _Never?!_

Geralt was angry at himself. Jaskier was his... friend and yet Geralt knew so little about him. Now that he thinks about it, Geralt only knew Jaskier, the bard and never knew Julain, the lord. 

Geralt must've been really deep in thought as he hadn't even realized he'd collided straight into someone. He resurfaced from his mind when someone small and narrow framed hit his chest. 

"Oh, sorry..." came a small voice from below and at the very moment. Blue and Amber eyes were mere centimeters from each other.

The air was suddenly very thick and heavy like smoke. It was as if the whole room had stopped just to watch Geralt and Jaskier like the music had stopped so they had center stage but really Jaskier was just stuck in the moment as he looks hard into Geralt's amber eyes. For the first time, Jaskier struggled to find the words.

Even Geralt struggled to find his breath like his throat was tightening. He did want to meet with Jaskier, desperately in fact but not like this. Not thrown together in heat of a feast. 

"Jaskier, I-" Geralt begins and without even realizing, he raised his hand for Jaskier's shoulder as if instinct only for Jaskier to step away from his hand to hold his chin up. 

"Julain," spat Jaskier. 

"Huh?" is all Geralt could manage.

"It's Julain. Lord Julain." His words were so... lifeless. Like he was reading from a script. There was no sweetness or dramatization to his voice and his arms remained steady at the side which was so unlike him. Usually, he was up singing about tales, hands flared and animated as he spoke with joy. "You will address me as such." 

That wasn't right. Jaskier was _Jaskier,_ not Julain and certainly not Lord Julain. Never before had Geralt been afraid of Jaskier. Not that Geralt was worried Jaskier would go for a punch or anything but because Jaskier looked at Geralt with so much hate, anger and sadness that it froze Geralt. It was like Jaskier was looking at Geralt like he was indeed a monster.

Much like most nobles look at Geralt. 

He could smell that sickening and putrid smell of anger that oozed from Jaskier. 

"Jas... Lord Julain," the words felt wrong in Geralt's mouth and even Ciri cringed at it. "I need to speak with you," Geralt was almost begging. 

Yen could see the desperation the Geralt's face but even Yen's cold heart crushed as Jaskier looked down at Geralt from his nose without so much as recognition in his eyes but it was at that moment Yennefer saw it. 

Love. 

They say Witchers are devoid of all emotion but at that very moment, Geralt was almost a different man as he pleaded with the man he loved only for his heart to be crushed. 

"I don't know what you're doing here," hisses Jaskier sounding a little more like himself although Yennefer knew Jaskier would never speak like that to Geralt out of his own will. "You told me it would be a blessing if I was out of your hands and yet here you stand pleading with me?" 

"I know but I-I didn't mean-"

It was happening but Geralt didn't know it was happening. Everything was he wanted to say was swimming in his mind, fighting over each other to try and get to his mouth so Geralt couldn't actually string a sentence together. 

"You didn't mean it?" laughs Jaskier but his laugh was not his own. It was not his usually explosive laughter but this was more a cold one. "Then why didn't you stop me? Why did you let me leave?" His voice cracks and wobbles but Jaskier somehow managed to save himself from utter embarrassment. 

What would his family think if they saw him crying? Crying at the feet of a Witcher?

Pathetic. 

Speaking of family, Jaskier froze with fear as the thin and boney arm of Beatrice swung around his neck. She smelt of her usual roses but she had the bittersweet smell of alcohol and food on her. 

It was bad enough Geralt had come to talk to him and now he was having to keep a strong front against his sister after what she did last night. He couldn't let Geralt know what they had done because then Geralt would know that Jaskier had no place with his family. That he was a disappointment. 

"Come now, little brother," her words are slurred a woozy as hangs from Jaskier's neck and he grimaces at his sister's drunkness. "Geralt and Yennefer are esteemed guests and if I recall correctly-" _shit._ "You are the famous white wolf? Geralt of Rivia?" she points to Geralt with her goblet making wine splash out onto the floor.

"I am, yes," Geralt squints his eyes at Beatrice trying to study her but his eyes fall back to Jaskier who is surprisingly stiff. 

He didn't look comfortable at all with his sister that close to him. Or maybe he wasn't comfortable with being this close to Geralt? No. Geralt smelt Jaskeir's fear intensify as his sister latched onto him. 

He was scared of his own sister and Geralt was willing to bet Jaskier was scarred of the rest of his family. 

"You know," she swallows down a hiccup. "You are _extremely_ handsome. I thought Julain was just being stupidly dramatic about you but _damn,_ " Beatrice tries to straighten herself out but instead finds herself leaning into Jaskier again but never once breaking her eye contact with Geralt. "You are very nice to look at." 

"You're married, Beatrice," said Jaskier in a low voice to his sister, trying to brush over the fact that Beatrice just let slip that Jaskier thought Geralt was handsome. 

"Yeah. Unhappily," snorts Beatrice rather loudly. She finds enough strength to push off Jaskier so she's now standing by herself. "So what do you say, white wolf!" Beatrice opens her arms wildly and attempts to look at Geralt with a flirtatious look but it looks like she's having a stroke. 

"Julain.. talked about me?" Just when Jaskier thought the worst was over... but there was a certain softness to Geralt's voice that made Jaskier's heart flicker. 

"Nope," said Beatrice rather bluntly. "But he wrote about you, _aaaaaa lot_!" She swings her goblet up for a drink only for her to underestimate which sent her drink down the front of her dress.

Geralt's face contorts as he thinks. Jaskier only ever wrote in that worn songbook of his and he never let _anyone_ read it not even Geralt. 

"Uh, uh, uh. A good craftsman never shows his unfinished masterpiece until it is finished," he would scold whenever Geralt tried to sneak a peek at whatever Jaskier was scribbling down in there. 

If Geralt never got to see it, then why would Jaskier let his sister (of whom he is clearly afraid of) see it. Unless.. it was against Jaskier's will. 

Geralt's rage boiled.

"Excuse but we have to go," said Jaskier with a shaky sigh as he looks to the floor to avoid Geralt's deadly glare. He loops Beatrice's arm back over his neck and steadies her. "Enjoy the rest of your night." Even if his words kind, there was no meaning to them and they fell flat in the air. 

Jaskier turns to leave with a half-conscious Beatrice drooling on his shoulder but something tugs on Geralt's heart. 

Pulling and urging him to take Jaskier's hand and pull him back. Something hard and meaningful that made his heart hurt and stomach churn. 

Love. 

"Julain-" Geralt gives in and takes a grip of Jaskier's arm and gives it a soft tug only for Jaskier to yelp out in pain. "Shit, I didn't mean to-" Geralt recoils his hand as Jaskier twists his head around with his face pinched in pain. 

"It's fine, it wasn't you," with his free hand Jaskier rubs his shoulder trying to soothe the burning pain. 

"Someone hurt you?" Instinctively Geralt jumps into protective mode. "Who was it?!" Jaskier almost smiled at the way Geralt genuinely cared for him, cared for Jaskier in a way none of his family ever did but it was little too late.

The time for Geralt's apologies and care was years ago. 

"Noone. I slept on it funny," lied Jaskier once again avoiding Geralt's piercing gaze as Jaskier knows as soon as he looks at Geralt, he'll tell him everything. "I must go, apologies. Goodnight." 

"Wait," now it was Yennefers turn to pester Jaskier and clearly it worked at Jaskier snapped his neck around to scowl at the sorceress. 

"Oh for _fuck_ sake what is it now!" His voice was low enough that no one else paid any mind to it but it was so low it was like a growl and Yen actually found herself flinching away from the bard. 

"Your brother, Finneus," Yen composes herself. "Where is he?" 

"Lemme guess. He owes you money," huffs Jaskier letting his shoulders drop. 

Yen simply nods. 

"Well, you just missed him. The rat bastard saw you a scampered. Your best bet is looking for him in his chamber, he's probably packing his shit." There was real hatred in Jaskier's voice. Yen recognized that hate as a hate so deep-rooted and strong that you would do anything to be free of them.

"His chamber. Where is it?" Yennefer steps out towards the bard as urgency grips her.

"Up the main stairs, left corridor, fourth door on your right." 

"Hah, marvelous. Thank you, Lord Julain," she gives a slight nod of her head before scurrying off but she must admit, it was unnerving to address the bard so highly for she only ever knew Jaskier as Geralt's pet bard now... something had snapped inside of Jaskier.

And now it was only Geralt, Jaskier and Ciri who was looking between the bard and the witcher, suffocating under the tension. 

Finally, Geralt spoke again.

"Jaskier I need-"

"Save it," Jaskier holds a hand out and Geralt surprisingly fell silent. "I have guests to attend to and clearly you are at Yennefers bidding again. Go." His words are blunt and have a simple sadness to them. Like this was Jaskier's way of saying goodbye. 

And sure enough, when Geralt looked behind him Yen was stood at the base of the stairs waving at him but when Geralt turned, he saw only Jaskier melting back in the crowd. 

But Jaskier was stupid if he thought Geralt was going to let it end like that...


	4. Goodbye, Julian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kudos and kind comments :) this is the end of my first dabble in the Witcher and it was very fun and will not be the last!!!!

"That was..." said Ciri as Geralt and Ciri follow after Yennefer who was impatiently waiting for them at the base of stairs. "I'm sure Julain-"

"His name is Jaskier," said Geralt rather bluntly as he maneuvered around a crowd of nobles and takes a tight but caring grip of Ciri's hand as not to lose her in the crowd.

"But he made it very clear his name was Julain," she squeaked at him. 

"I've known him for twenty years, Ciri. I would know." 

"And yet you didn't know anything about his family," retorts Ciri and she simply ignores Geralt's sharp look he gives her. 

"He's hurting, Ciri. Trying to protect himself by using 'Lord Julain' as a front." 

"You're hurting too, Geralt," Ciri's voice softens in her mouth as he intertwines her small fingers in with Geralt's. 

Geralt can't even bring himself to look at Ciri who was staring up at him with eyes that said 'you can tell me what you're feeling.' But in all honesty, Geralt didn't know what he was feeling. One part of him was to give 'Julain' his wish but the other part of him was telling him to find Jakseir.

"I saw the way you two looked at each other."

"He looked at me like a monster. Maybe it's better that way..." Ciri had never heard Geralt's voice so soft and broken. In fact, he looked broken with his eyes dull and strained to the floor and his face devoid of all emotion. 

"As you said Geralt," said Ciri who didn't know how to comfort a witcher. "He's hurting, trying to protect himself." 

"Finally," said Yennefer as he saw Geralt and Ciri part out of the crowd but she doesn't wait for them to reach the stairs before hitching her skirt and gracing her way upstairs in the hunt for her money.

Geralt and Ciri follow silently after her as they ascend the marble stairs that wound up and up. The walls were decorated in family portraits and banners. Geralt recognized Lord Augustus in many in them but clearly they were painted from his younger days when he wasn't a walking skeleton. 

Andrea, Beatrice, Jackson, Finneus and whoever else lived on the estate had their own portrait. There was even a family one where the siblings stood proud and polished in their silks next to their parents. 

Jaskier was nowhere to be seen. 

"Hurry up you two," calls Yen as she gets to the landing in a low voice as Finneus' door was approaching.

"Sorry," said Ciri in a soft whisper as she hurried her pace. 

This time Yen did wait for Ciri and Geralt to join her until setting off again. 

"Why does he owe you money?" asked Ciri as she skips beside Yen who was more than happy to have the company that said more than 'hmm' and 'fuck.'

"Finneus thinks himself a great Gwent player, I proved him wrong," smiled Yen as she flicks hair from her face.

"You are also a shit Gwent player," scoffs Geralt from behind which makes her smile fall. 

"Maybe but I'm also a sorceress," her wicked smile tightens again. 

"You cheated?" said Ciri and Yen ignored the edge of bitterness in Ciri's voice. 

"No dear, just... bent the rules." 

Before Geralt can say anything, Yen holds up her hand in a way that told the pair to shut up which they did. She holds out a finger towards a door and as she does so, said door swings open rather violently and there stood a flushed looking man. 

In his hand there was a hastily packed trunk with pieces of fabric hanging loose out the sides, his face hot and flushed, his hair untamed, a jacket pulled uncaringly on his shoulder and his eyes scanning panicked across the hallway. 

Once his eyes locked with Geralt's and then Yen's, he drops his trunk which bursts and spills his fabrics and clothes across the floor. 

"That's him! That's the bastard!" barks Yen as she gathers her dress in one of her hand as she races forward for Finneus who was had burst into a sprint. Her fee hand extends and she feels magic warming her fingertips. 

Before Geralt can stop her, a surge of powerful magic burst from Yen's fingers and hits Finneus which sends him flying into the air. It knocks him from his feet up and into the air before he's thrown into one of the other doors which explodes in a rain of splinters as he breaks through. 

Yen takes a slow but powerful walk towards him with Geralt and Ciri in tow. Geralt thought it was a little dramatic, even for Yennefer but Ciri was in awe in Yen's pure talent and her power. 

Geralt steps through the broken door to see Yennefer leaning over Finneus who had hit the end of a bed where he remained. She gathers Finneus' collar in her hand as she pulled him close to his face to hers. 

"Where's my fucking money?" she hisses in his face. 

Geralt's attention was not on Finneus for he knew Yen had it under control and Geralt let his eyes wander around the room and it was painfully sparse. 

There was basic furniture like a bed, a dresser and a few shelves that were barren. There was a trunk to the back of the room but it sat with the lid cracked open, the lock broken and empty bar a few scraps of paper. 

But the thing that puzzled him the most was what lay on the bed. A few discarded shards of wood that were no more than mere splinters. It must've been someone's poor attempt of trying to clear something up but what was most troubling was the thin and snapped thread of... hair?

No, it wasn't hair. 

Geralt picked it up and rolled between his fingers and it dawned on him... it was a string. 

A lute string... 

Geralt's anger flared as his hand tightened around the string in his hand. 

"Who's room is this?" growled Geralt without even looking to Finneus. 

"Geralt what are you on about?" sighs Yen who rolls her eyes up to Geralt but didn't take her hands off from Finneus who was glad to have the attention away from him. 

"WHOS FUCKING ROOM IS THIS?!" even Ciri jumped at the sudden roar in Geralt's voice. 

Yen falls silent and lets her hand drop from Finneus' collar as Geralt storms over, she even takes a step back towards Ciri to both allow Geralt to take over and to partly shield Ciri from whatever Geralt was about to do. 

"I d-don't have your... your money," pleads Finneus as he raises his hands in a sign of peace but he cries in pain when Geralt's hand finds his collar and yanks him from his feet. 

"I don't care about the fucking money," huffs Geralt. "Who's room is this?" 

Finneus's eyes flicker between Yen and Geralt trying to decide his fate. "My brother's... J-Julain." 

Even Yen's chest felt like it caved when the words left Finneus' mouth and she could see Geralt's anger bubble and boil. Instinctively, Yen pressed Ciri against her with their hands intertwined knowing Geralt was about to let loose hell. 

"Do you know what this is?" he hisses at Finneus who flinched away at the words. 

Harshly Geralt slaps the snapped lute string into Finneus' hand who stared cluelessly at the thin and fragile string in his hand. "It's a... a string." 

"Well done," said Geralt with a flare of his nose. "From a _lute._ " Geralt let his grip loosen so Finneus drops to the floor with a hard thud that sent bolts of pain up from his tail bone. 

Geralt stared hard at the man beneath him with hell in his eyes and anger on his face that made every part of Finneus tremble. He knew he was done for. 

He never truly believed the rumors of his little brother tagging along with a Witcher and now Finneus was starting to regret never believing it. Why else would Geralt of Rivia care so deeply about a Fucking lute? Unless he has some attachment to musical instruments. 

" _I_ didn't break it! I swear!" whimpers Finneus as he tries to scramble from Geralt only for him to land hard on his back when Geralt landed a hard and powerful hit on his face. " _Fuck!"_ he shrieks clutching his face trying to dull the pain as blood oozed from his nose. 

"I never did trust nobles," spat Geralt as he shook the stinging pain from his knuckles. 

Finneus spits the blood that had pooled in his mouth out onto Geralt's boots. "All you monsters are the same," he snides as his piercing scowl looks from Geralt to Yen then back to Geralt. "Ruthless and ugly. I knew my brother was dumb but I will never understand what possessed him to follow you- _FUCK YOU!"_ Finneus interrupts his own rambles as Geralt punches him again, harder this time which makes Finneus scream again. 

"What in the actual _fuck_ is going on - Finneus?" they all turn around at the sharp voice behind to see Jaskier sticking his head through the hole that was his door now. 

Everyone is silent as Jaskier steps in with is boots crunching the splinters of wood that littered the floor. His narrowed eyes fall over Yen and Ciri but somehow soften when they land on Geralt who had his fist clenched and poised, ready for another attack. 

"Your monster friend here is trying to kill me!" snaps Finnues as he tries to wipe the blood from his nose only for him to smear it over his face and sleeve. 

"One can only hope he succeeds," sighs Jaskier as he pinches the bridge of his nose. Geralt fought the urge to smile at Jaskier's usual dramatics and fire that he missed on the road. 

"Excuse me?" spits Finnues as he glared up at his younger brother. "Aren't you supposed to be standing up for me!" His words hiss out his grated teeth. 

"It's not my fault you owe Yen money," all eyes were on Jaskier wondering where he found his confidence to stand up for himself or maybe he knew Finneus would never lay a hand on him with Geralt watching. "Just give them the money and be done with it, Finn." 

Yen had never heard so much authority from Jaskier and she was starting to respect him.

Now all eyes were back on the pathetic man that was Finneus who was keeping his eyes trained to the floor as to not catch anyone's eye contact and that was all Jaskieir needed to know. "You don't have the money, do you?" 

"Of course..." groaned Yen as she finds herself striding over to stand by Jaskier's side. "Don't promise something you don't have." 

Jaskier laughs with Yen and they almost feel... happy. Jaskier almost feels like he was comfortable enough to call Yen a friend (of sorts.) He even felt a little softer when he looks into Geralt's eyes. 

Geralt doesn't miss the slight twitch in Jaskier's mouth that made his lips turn almost into a smile. He didn't look at Geralt like a monster... but he looked at him with warmth and pride.

The swell in his heart makes Jaskier depart from Yen's side to run his hand under the bottom of his bed frame. Everyone had stopped to watch to see whatever the hell he was doing, even Finneus. 

As Jaskier pulls his fingers across the bed frame until he feels a small thread which he pulls and he pulls out a small leather pouch that falls out into his palm which jiggles with what Geralt can only assume is coin and plenty of it for that matter. 

"Here," said Jaskier with his voice empty of emotion. He tosses the coin pouch at Finneus and it smacks him in the face before Finneus fumbles with it but finally he holds it firmly in his hands. "That should cover it. Give what you owe and this will be done with." 

Even if Geralt hadn't seen Jaskier in years, he could hear Jaskier's patience running thin and his anger snapping not that Jaskier was a very angry man but Geralt never wanted to be on his bad side. 

"W-why?" said Finneus as he opens the pouch to come face to face with the plentiful coin. 

"Count is as fuck you gift," snarls Jaskier. 

Finneus looks up with anger in his eyes at his brother only for Jaskier to swivel on his heels and leaves without so much of a goodbye and now the room was dreadfully silent until Ciri broke it. 

"Don't be a fool," she cries from behind Yen's shoulder. "Go get him! Go get your bard!"

And so Geralt did. 

Without missing a beat, Geralt chased after Jaskier and after elbowing his way through the crowd he saw Jaskier but only for a minute as the bard disappeared out the back door but that only made Geralt quicken his pace. 

The night was cold and bitter. The dark sky above was alit of stars and the silver moon but Geralt couldn't see that far ahead of him. Even with his enhanced vision, the night was so dark that Geralt could only hope to see his bard. 

Instead, he follows the smell of lavender that had twisted around his heart and pulled him on Jaskier's path. Without even thinking Geralt knew he had to follow it and as he did, Jaskier came into sight. 

Stood by the open stables, Jaskeir was cloaked and taking hold of a white station's reigns and pulling him from the stable. Clearly Jaskier was planning on leaving but Geralt just couldn't allow that. The only way Jaskier was leaving was by Geralt's side. 

"Jaskier." Geralt's voice was ruff and sudden as it broke through the darkness but Jaskier didn't jump nor feel afraid. He simply let his grip loosen from the reign and slows his pace. 

"You got what you came for, why are you still here?" Jaskier doesn't let the hood of his cloak fall so Geralt was merely talking to his dark figure. 

"Yen got what she came for..." Geralt's voice was small, the smallest Jaskier had ever heard his voice to be. 

"Ha!" Jaskier lets his head fall back as he lets out a snorty laugh. "You got what you wanted too, Geralt." Finally, Jaskier snapped his head around to look at Geralt but his blue eyes were dark and narrow. "You fought destiny for years and now finally Ciri stands by your side, the child surprise. Yennefer has you wrapped around her fingers and you do her bidding but that's what you've always wanted is it not? The sorceress in your bed and your child by your side, what else could you want?!" Jaskier's voice was hard and angry in Geralt's ears. 

They remain intense stillness while Geralt thinks fo something to say and Jaskier waits for some half-assed excuse. Once again Geralt's thoughts were fighting over each other and Geralt just didn't have the words. So many thoughts, so many words. 

Until he said the one word. One word so small but yet said so much. 

"You.." 

Jaskier let the reign fall from his hand and his face softens so much it was like all his muscles had gone slack. "I'm a bard, Geralt. I can't fight, I don't have magic and I complain and I get in the way... I have no place with you on the road. _You_ made that clear." All while he was talking, Jaskier took a few steps closer so that they were mere centimeters away. 

Geralt turns his head down in shame. "I-I said that, yes. I know but-"

"But what!" barks Jaskier throwing his hands around them. "You took your anger out on me again because that is all I'm there for!"

"No, Jaskier. Not at all," begins Geralt. "You are _my_ bard. You belong beside me on the road, with roach, in taverns. Like it was."

"Like it was?" Jaskier echoes Geralt's words but Jaskier tone was harsh and bitter. "Things can't be like it was. To much time has passed and now you have Ciri to watch out for." 

"I can't raise Ciri on my own," appeals Geralt. 

"You have Yen now. She's always wanted a child and what better than a child that is bound to you by destiny." Jaskier bats his hand over his shoulder with a snarl on his lips. How could he ever think he was good enough for Geralt? He had Yennefer on his arm; one of the strongest mages in the region. Ciri following him around; the child who is Geralt's destiny. 

"Jaskier you think was just by chance that I'm here? That the man who owed Yen money was your brother. You think that's luck?" 

"Bad luck, yes!" 

Geralt shakes his head slowly. "Jaskier you sing of density. My destiny. Your destiny. _Our_ destiny," Geralt chances placing an arm on Jaskier's narrow shoulder and Jaskier lets it stay there. "You are tied to me just as Ciri is. Fate, destiny or whatever you want to call it in your next ballad but our paths are tied together." 

"And I thought I was the poet..." murmurs Jaskier. He's sure he can make a song out of this conversation alone let alone this entire night but how was he to do that without a lute nor songbooks nor the motivation for creativity. 

"Come on Jaskier, you must see that your place is not here!" Geralt throws his arms back towards the Manor. "You are scared for your life, I see that. They break your lute, destroy your songs, hurt you and yet you want to stay." 

"At least they wanted me!" Jaskier's anger echoes around them in the darkness and his words cut through Geralt like swords. He pushes Geralt's heavy hand from his shouldrer and Geralt doesn't try to put it back. 

That was until Jaskier's anger simmered down until it was just sadness. Tears welled in his eyes but he forced them not to fall so he looked at Geralt through his tears so Geralt was just a blurred white mess.

"I was scared for life on the road too, wondering if I would wake up the next day in a drowner nest or worse! But I liked it, loved it even. Because it was me and you against the world! And I-I... I thought you liked it too. I thought you liked... _me_..." Jaskier lets the tears fall and he manages to get his words out between his sobs. 

Jaskier's hands clutching the fabric of his cloak as he speaks and Geralt can only stand watch. 

Until Geralt dared to take Jaskier's hand in his. With gentle firmness, Geralt worms his finger into Jaskier's hand and takes Jaskier's grip from his cloak to stop him from ripping it. "I do Jaskier. I like your singing, I like your constant chatter, I like how you aren't afraid to be scared, I like how open you are, I like looking into your eyes and I like being with you. I can't stand the silence anymore... I need you to be with me again because..." Geralt wasn't aware of the words that were coming out his mouth be he did know he meant every word.

"Because what..." Jaskier's heart was hammering in his chest but he needed to know everything that was going on in Geralt's head. He needed to know if what Jaskier felt was mutual. 

"Because I love you!" The words spilled out from Geralt's mouth like liquid and it made his heart pinch as he said. The words hadn't even formed in his head yet they just appeared on his tongue like they had been sitting in his heart just waiting for the right time. 

A strangled gasp escaped Jaskier's mouth that made Geralt flinch away. He was such an idiot for thinking a bard would fall for a monster! Why would Jaskier-

Pulling Geralt from his thoughts was Jaskier's arms wrapping around his neck. Geralt's initial thought was that Jaskier was attacking him but... Jaskier's nuzzled his nose into the warmth of Geralt's neck. 

It was a hug. 

It was warm and loving and something Geralt had never had before and yet, Geralt found himself hugging Jaskier back. He pulled his thick arms up and pulled them around Jaskier and rested his forehead against Jaskier's neck. 

"You big oof," laughs Jaskier and the realness to Jaskeir's laugh made him smile. "I love you too." 

And with that, the bard and the witcher were together once again. They set off the next morning with Roach who was more than happy to see Jaskier once again, even Yen was happy to have Jaskier back. Ciri was more than thrilled to have someone creative on their travels. 

"Bard," called Yennefer as Jaskier was setting up camp. "I have something for you." Jaskier swivels his head around to see Yennefer rummaging through her saddlebag. "Take this," it wasn't an offer more like a demand.

Jaskier throws his hands out in instinct and a leather bag lands heavily in his hands and it jiggles in his hands. It was the money Jaskier 'loaned' to Finneus the night Jaskier finally left. 

"I thought this was your money?" said Jaskier as he looked at the money in his hands knowing he couldn't take back the money. 

"It was, which is why I am gifting it to you," Yennefer said as she ties her saddlebag closed and hopes back up on the saddles. "How else are you to get a new lute?" 

Jaskier closes his hand around the bag as he thinks of the lute he would buy. The finest lute with the strongest of strings and smoothest of chords. 

"Well, well, well," he chuckles to her. "For this, I will write you a song," said Jaskier with his usual dramatization as he bows to her with a flare of his arm and a coy smile. Yen can only roll her eyes but she smiles nonetheless knowing this was Jaskier's highest of thanks. 

"If you must but do not turn me into some wicked witch." 

"How else will my songs sell!?" he taunts her. " _Oh, Yen the wicked witch. Oh, Yen the biggest bitch! Here she comes down the road, watch her turn kin into a toad!"_ He sings with a hand on his chest while the other was outstretched towards Yen. 

Although she hated the bard and his horribly catchy tunes, she couldn't help but smile at him as he sang joyfully and with meaning. 

"Oh, how you flatter me, bard," she swoons as she pulls her horse's reins into her hands. "And I never have turned anyone into a toad!" she scorns. 

Jaskier simply shrugs and pockets the coin. He goes to say another sarcastic remark but something dawns on him. "You're not staying, are you?" he sounds genuinely sad as he looks at her with puppy dog eyes. 

"Unfortunately, I can't," she sighs with a shake of her head. 

"Geralt will be sad to see you go." They both turn their attention to Geralt and Ciri who were stood in the forest clearing. 

Geralt held his sword out as Ciri danced around her with wicked footwork with her own smaller steel sword. Geralt had decided to take it upon himself to train Ciri not that Jaskier was mad Geralt never tried to train Jaskier because Jaskier knew Geralt would always protect him. 

"Maybe," she says. "But he has you back now. He doesn't need me." Sure Yen was sad to be leaving but she was needed elsewhere and besides Jaskier was back. Geralt couldn't be happier as was Jaskier and Yen was glad for them. Her work there was done. 

Not that Yen claimed to be cupid but come on! If it was for Yen, Geralt wouldn't have collided with Jaskier again. 

"Hmm," hums Jaskier with a simple yet knowing smile. 

"Goodbye, Julain," said Yen as she pulled the horse's head up with its reins and turns out of the clear and towards the road. 

"Actually," said Jaskier in a small voice which makes Yen spin her head around to see Jaskier smiling sweetly. "It's Jaskier..."


End file.
